In the shadowy alley behind the community center, Molly and Bill huddled, their breaths visible in the chilly night air. The distant hum of children's laughter and music floated through the closed doors, a stark contrast to their whispered plans. Molly, a petite woman with a mischievous glint in her eye, held a crumpled blueprint, her finger tracing the route to the present-laden tables. Bill, tall and lanky, leaned against the wall, his eyes scanning the perimeter, a smirk playing on his lips. "Alright, Bill," Molly began, her voice barely above a whisper, "we've got the layout. The presents are in the main hall, near the stage. We'll need to create a distraction, something big enough to draw the adults away." Bill chuckled, "Leave that to me, Mol. I've got just the thing." He patted his coat pocket, the shape of a small smoke bomb visible. Molly nodded, a grin spreading across her face. "Once the coast is clear, we'll grab the presents and make a run for it. We'll need to be quick, though. Kids have a knack for noticing things." Bill pushed off the wall, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "You know, Mol, there's something poetic about robbing a children's party. It's like stealing Christmas." Molly laughed softly, "Well, let's just make sure we're not the ones who end up on Santa's naughty list." With that, they slipped into the night, ready to turn the children's party into their own little heist.